When The Children Cry
by bschi003
Summary: Dean Winchester gets more then he bargained for when he comes to the defense of a little girl.
1. Fade To Black

Life it seems, will fade away  
Drifting further every day  
Getting lost within myself  
Nothing matters no one else  
I have lost the will to live  
Simply nothing more to give  
There is nothing more for me  
Need the end to set me free

Things are not what they used to be  
Missing one inside of me  
Deathly lost, this can't be real  
Cannot stand this hell I feel  
Emptiness is filing me  
To the point of agony  
Growing darkness taking dawn  
I was me, but now He's gone  
No one but me can save myself, but it to late  
Now I can't think, think why I should even try  
Yesterday seems as though it never existed  
Death Greets me warm, now I will just say good-bye

-Fade To Black, Metallica

* * *

Peter's Bar  
Creston, NE  
2:17 am

More Whiskey.

That was all he wanted.

Possibly some sex.

But that would involve flirting, which although he was quite good at, he was not at all in the mood for at the moment.

Or in general lately.

He couldn't remember the last time he had been with a woman.

He used to love to flirt.

But not anymore.

Ever since he had returned it was like his desire to do anything he used to enjoy had been left behind.

He kept up appearances for his brothers sake.

No need to worry his sensitive brain.

Plus the younger man would probably just try to analyze the situation.

And he didn't want to deal with the questions.

So when they were together, he would play the arrogant, flirtatious, sarcastic jackass that his brother was used to.

But when he was alone, like he was then, he'd sit quietly and drink his whiskey and hope that he'd feel something.

Anything.

He had taken to actually looking forward to getting hurt on hunts.

Because pain was better then nothing.

Oh my god.

He was emo.

In an act of desperation, he banged his head against the wooden bar, wincing at the slight pain it caused.

The bartender looked on with mild concern and a hint of amusement.

He wanted to tell him where he could shove it, but the other man held the gateway to his only access to whiskey for a 30 mile radius.

Peter's was the only bar in the podunk little town that they were staying in, and if the dead end on the job they were working continued, they were going to be in that town for awhile.

Of course, in order to try and complete the job, he had to get back to the hotel and get some sleep.

Downing the last of his whiskey, he threw some cash on the bar and nodded to the bartender.

He was walking out the door into the cold night air when his phone rang. He briefly considered letting it go to voicemail and giving himself a few more moments of solitude but quickly disregarded the thought as he glanced at the caller id.

"Yea, Sammy, what's up?" He asked gruffly.

He could almost hear his brothers annoyance before the other man even answered. "Dean! Where the hell are you?! You realize we have an appointment with the medical examiner at nine o'clock in the morning?"

Dean Winchester sighed and rubbed his eyes as he fumbled with his keys in the door. "Yea, I know, I know." He mumbled. "I'll be home in ten minutes."

"Good!" Sam huffed, before switching from concerned younger brother to hunting partner without missing a beat. "So, I've been researching more about the victims and while at first there's no obvious connection, when I dug deeper I found that all the victims were related. Its very distant though, the closest relationship was between the Miller girl and the farmer; they were fourth cousins twice removed. So, chances are the victims didn't even know they were related."

Dean rolled his eyes, finally managing to open the driver side door of his 1967 Chevy Impala. "Dude! There are 215 people in this town and most have been here for generations. Everyone's probably related!"

Dean was listening to Sam's retort when a high pitched scream suddenly resounded from the alley on side of the bar.

"… so stereotypical-"

"Shit! I gotta go Sam!" The elder brother said, cutting Sam off. "I'll call you back in a few minutes!" Dean tossed the cell phone into the backseat and took off running.

He saw them when he turned the corner.

The man was standing over the little girl, no more then three years old. He was roughly holding her arm so high over her head she was nearly being pulled off the ground. Her cheeks were wet with tears and one side of her face was red from where the man had just hit her.

Dean stepped in as the man raised his hand again. "Hey!" He grabbed the man's wrist tightly. "What do you think your doing?!"

"Get off me, man!" The other man said, dropping the little girl abruptly, and jerking his arm from Deans grasp. "The little bitch deserved it!"

"She's a baby! What the hell could she have possibly done to you? What kind of father are you, anyway? Its two am! She should be sleeping!" Dean practically roared, his protective nature quickly taking over as he bent down over the crying child.

Dean Winchester may be many things. Arrogant, sarcastic, a player, and a downright SOB, but never let it be said that he didn't have a heart. He was caring and fiercely protective, and always had a soft spot for children.

The little girl below him was obviously terrified. She was small and undernourished. She was wearing a tattered and ripped nightgown with no shoes and was covered in dirt and mud and god knows what else. Her eyes were bloodshot and full of fear, and she looked like she hadn't slept or eaten in days.

"First of all, its not mine," The man behind him interrupted his thoughts. "Her mother's a whore who owed me money for crack and left the little bitch with me for collateral. Then she ran off with half my stock of coke and left me with this _thing_ that wont stop crying. But hey, you want her so bad, you can have her!"

Dean was so busy fuming at the tale he had just heard that it took him a moment to register the second part of the drug dealers statement. _I've said it before and I'll say it again,_ He thought to himself. _Demons I get, people are just crazy… wait… what?_

He froze and turned around quickly as the words sunk in, but the dealer was nowhere in sight.

_Shit… Now what?_


	2. Hero

Disclaimer- I unfortunately do not own Dean or Sam... I wish I did though...

Many thanks to my totally awesome beta, Abby =]

* * *

I'm just a step away  
I'm just a breath away  
Losing my faith today  
Falling off the edge today

I am just a man  
Not superhuman  
I'm not superhuman  
Someone save me from the hate

It's just another war  
Just another family torn  
Falling from my faith today  
Just a step from the edge  
Just another day in the world we live

I need a hero to save me now  
I need a hero, save me now  
I need a hero to save my life  
A hero will save me just in time

-Hero, Skillet

* * *

Dean stared at the little girl. The little girl stared right back from her seat on the hood of the Impala. Her large blue eyes watched his every move as he paced back and forth in front of the vehicle. While her crying had been reduced to a small sniffle now and again, she still had a scared look in her eye, like she was still trying to figure out if she could trust him or not. It wasn't a look he was unused to; he got it frequently from other hunters, but it looked out of place on the face of a toddler.

This was an improvement, however, from the shaking and crying that had started when he first tried to pick her up off the cold, muddy floor of the ally. She had shrunken away from him when he had bent over to lift her into his arms, but it was November and the fall night air was chilly enough as it was, and the ratty Barbie nightgown she was wearing was thin. Part of him wanted to put her back down, in fear of scaring her more, but he had no doubt the freezing cold of the concrete would give her pneumonia if she sat on it for much longer.

So he wrapped her small body in his jacket best he could and walked back towards the bar.

Only there was one problem. The owner had apparently figured he was getting no more customers after Dean left and had closed up and departed for the night. And nothing else was open. Nor were there any cars, or any form of intelligent life that he could see.

It was just him, and the small scared child in his arms. So he placed her on the hood of his car as he debated what to do.

They had been that way ever since.

Sammy had called a few times, no doubt flipping a shit in their hotel room.

But Dean hadn't answered, knowing exactly what his little brother would tell him to do.

He should take her to a police station, or a hospital and hand her over to the people who were qualified to deal with the situation.

But for some reason, that solution didn't sit well in his gut. Call it hunter's instinct, but there was more to the situation then what met the eye. Something about this girl told him she needed help. His kind of help.

On the other hand, Dean was quite aware that it could be weeks, months even, before he could figure out what connected the small girl to the world of the supernatural. Hunting with a baby was difficult under the best of circumstances. But hunting with an emotionally and physically abused three-year-old? Well, Dean guessed that was near impossible.

Besides, Sam would throw a hissy fit.

But its not like he could just leave her.

Sighing, he knelt down before her. She looked at him cautiously, but didn't shy away. He took that as a good sign. "Hey, Princess!" He said with a smile. "My name's Dean, what's yours?"

She stared at him for a long time. He began to wonder if she wasn't going to answer his question. He was about to give up hope when he heard her whisper softly. So softly, he almost didn't catch what she said.

"Isabelle?" He repeated. She nodded her blonde head. "Ok, Isabelle. I need you to listen to me ok?" Another nod. "Its getting really late, and I'm getting sleepy, so I'm gonna take you with me, but I don't want you to be scared, ok? Cause I'm not going to hurt you, alright?"

Isabelle nodded slowly, and only flinched slightly this time when Dean lifted her to him.

He buckled her into the backseat, silently praying that he wouldn't get stopped by a cop. The last thing he needed was to get a ticket for driving a baby without a carseat. So, for probably the first time in his life, Dean Winchester abided by the speed limit all the way back to the hotel.

Isabelle had fallen asleep about halfway back. Dean had to admit, it had been absolutely adorable to watch her in the rearview mirror. She had fought against the tiredness valiantly. But in the end, her little eyes finally closed and her breathing slowed.

Dean got out of the car as quietly as he could, before opening the back door and lifting her gently into his arms. She tensed slightly, and he sighed. Even in her unconscious state, she was still distrustful of others. He rubbed her back soothingly and rocked her back and forth gently until she relaxed against him and wrapped her little arms around his neck.

He stood there for a moment, slightly surprised at the warm feeling he got in the pit of his stomach. It was kind of like the feeling he got when he looked at Sam, a mixture of protectiveness and pride and something he was unable to identify.

It kind of made him uncomfortable.

Shaking it off, he opened the hotel door.

"Where the HELL have you been, Dean!" He cursed inwardly when he heard his brother's angry shout. He felt Isabelle jump as she woke with a start. She watched his brother with wide, fear-filled blue eyes, as she held onto Dean tightly.

Sam, oblivious, ranted on. "You call me telling me you're on your way home, and then I hear a yell and then you say you'll call me back and you never did, and I'm stuck here without a car, and god-knows-what could have been happening to you and- is that a kid?" He stopped yelling abruptly, finally noticing the terrified child in his elder brother's arms.

"Yea, Sam, it is, and if she wasn't traumatized enough, I'm pretty sure you just scared her even more!" He responded in a gruff voice, pushing past the younger man.

"Its ok, Princess," He said to her softly as he placed her on the bed. "Sammy is just being silly, He's not going to hurt you either, ok?" The child nodded but refused to let go of the front of his shirt, her wide eyes still focused on the younger Winchester.

Dean glared at his little brother. "Nice going, Mary Poppins!" He told him smartly. "I finally got her to calm down a bit, and then you had to go scare her again!" Sam at least had the common sense to look a bit guilty.

"Where did she come from?" He asked softly as Dean turned back to tend to the little girl.

"The alley beside the bar." He answered vaguely, hoping Sam would get the hint and drop the subject, at least till she was sleeping.

He didn't.

"What? You just found her? You can't just take her, Dean! We have to take her to the cops!"

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean growled. The entire time his brother had been talking, Isabelle's grip on Dean had gotten tighter and tighter. "We will talk about it later!"

"For now," He said, his voice getting softer as he addressed the tiny person before him. "How about we get you cleaned up? What do you think, sweetie? And then you can go back to sleep, ok?"

Isabelle nodded again, her blue eyes watching Sam warily as Dean carried her to the small bathroom.

He started to run the water for a bath but when he saw exactly how dirty she was, he changed to a shower. She was covered, from head to toe, in dirt. Her feet were caked with mud, and her hair was so oily it looked like it belonged in the fifty's. He washed her hair twice with shampoo and then moved on to help her wash her body.

He was washing her back when he saw them. At first, he thought it was some stubborn dirt that wouldn't wash off, but then he took a closer look.

"Oh my god."

They were bruises. They were all over her. On her back, her stomach, on her arms and her legs. And on her right arm there were a few small round scars that looked eerily like cigarette burns.

Dean felt his stomach roll as his anger level skyrocketed. What kind of parent could do that to her? What kind of person could do something like that to any child? Isabelle watched him with curious eyes as he tried to even his breathing. She was such a beautiful child. With her deep blue eyes and her banana curls. She was obviously smart and very observant. She had a smile that lit up her whole face, and made her eyes twinkle, and the worlds most adorable giggle, both which he discovered while washing the bottom of her feet where she was apparently very ticklish. Despite her original nervousness, she seemed to understand now that he was not going to hurt her. And now, since her eyes were no longer filled with fear, they held this innocence that was unlike anything he had ever seen. Why would someone want to destroy that?

He took a few deep breaths and went back to the task at hand, trying to force a smile onto his face.

He was pleasantly surprised at the end of her shower when, after he turned off the water, she actually smiled up at him and reached for him to lift her out of the tub. While she no longer flinched at his touch, she had yet to initiate it either. He took this as a sign of improvement. At the same time it worried him. It made him wonder if he was the first person to show her any amount of kindness if her three short years. That thought alone made him hold her closer as he wrapped her tightly in a towel and dried her off.

He was sitting on the toilet seat, drying her hair when something else caught his eye. It was a small red birthmark located on the back of her neck. Whilst that seems quite ordinary, the shape of the mark made it very clear this was no ordinary blemish. The shape was distinct and very recognizable.

It was a cross.

* * *

A/N: I'll give you a cookie if you write a review!

Seriously!

Chocolate Chip!

=]


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